


where sunlight ends

by mysterytwin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Fluff, Gen, based on the waverly hills episode, buzzfeed unsolved au, i love and miss these two so much i hope they're doing well, lets go find some ghosts!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytwin/pseuds/mysterytwin
Summary: Mabel grins and follows him, her flashlight bouncing off the walls. There are shadows where light meets dark, blurring the space between. She knows that there might be something hiding there, something more than both of them. Something part of this Great Unknown that Dipper wants to know, wants to learn. He’ll get lost just to find it, and Mabel will come along, because it’s always going to be the two of them against the tide, against everything. Even in the end, it will be the two of them standing at the beginning of it all. (Buzzfeed Unsolved AU)





	where sunlight ends

**Author's Note:**

> pls look at [this art](http://ashtheavaricious.tumblr.com/post/166954003115/its-2017-you-gotta-make-your-own-gravity-falls) by ashtheavaricious, it inspired this

“So this is it, huh? This is how I’m going to die.”

Dipper stares at the abandoned hospital in front of him, taking in its weary and deteriorating state. The foundation of it is barely holding everything else together, vines climb up the walls to meet cracked windows. The bricks are fading colors, looming over him with all three stories. The atmosphere doesn’t help either; it’s cold and dark, and it only makes the building look even more dangerous. It looms over him, mocking him for his decision.

“You know,” Mabel says from next to him, and she’s staring at it, too, “it’s not too late to turn around.”

She shifts her weight to the other foot, holding up the camera and taking pictures. She steps back and takes one of her brother, pale in contrast to the darkness surrounding him. Well, to be fair, the hospital spooks her, too, so she can’t really be one to judge. 

Mabel takes the hat from his head, taking a quick glimpse at the fading pine tree on it before placing it on her own head. It fits fine on her head, feels a little bit better than before. Dipper’s curls spill out, but they fall out just in the right places to show his birthmark. She grins. 

“We don’t have to do this,” she tells him, and it sort of feels like routine by now, because this always happens. Dipper gets spooked, she reassures him that they can leave, but always,  _ always _ , with all his stubbornness and his persistence, he chooses to stay. “We can go home, there’s a bowl of popcorn waiting for us. We can movie marathon, like, Ghost Adventures instead.”

“I want to do this,” but it lacks the conviction. The pride. And sometimes, she wonders why he chooses to do things like these, things that only bring up memories long since tucked away into pockets and things that scare him that the nightmares keep him awake for days. She never seems to get her answer. 

Mabel only shakes her head. “If you say so.”

“Here we go,” she hears him mutter to himself before walking up to the doors and pushing them open. She grabs his hand when they enter, squeezing it to stop them from shaking. 

It doesn’t take them long to set up their cameras to start filming. They find a couple of chairs that aren’t too dirty and a spot with decent lighting, and Mabel shivers in her seat. A gust of wind had swept by, chilling her spine, but it’s probably nothing. It usually is. 

“Today on Dipper and Mabel’s Guide to the Unexplained, we visit this abandoned hospital on the border of Los Angeles and San Francisco,” Dipper starts to say. “We’ll be searching for evidence to finally answer the question: are ghosts real?”

Mabel doesn’t shake her head, but she doesn’t nod, either. She knows they’re real, and maybe she’s never  _ seen _ one, but she has been possessed once. They were friendly ghosts, the old couple back at the convenience store, but that hadn’t really been a fun encounter. There was a ghost at the Northwest Manor, too, Dipper had told her. A Level 10, dangerous and can only be defeated with a silver mirror. And then there was Bill Cipher himself. That’s not something she can forget. 

Dipper starts going on about the history of the place, how most patients would die within its walls, how nurses and doctors have killed themselves. It sounds like every other place they’ve visited, gruesome history and lingering tales of woe. It always creeps her out, these stories, and she wonders if there’ll ever be a time she gets used to it. Probably not, she thinks. 

“And because we’re lucky,” he says sarcastically, “we’ll be spending the night here.”

“It’ll be fun,” she says with a toothy grin. “You, me, and the ghosts at one big sleepover!”

Dipper grimaces at the thought. “Fun,” he says dryly. He takes down the cameras, stopping the footage. He hands one of them to Mabel, for her to strap to her chest, and one for himself. He takes his flashlight from pocket, holding it up. 

“You have the silver, right?” he asks her. 

She gives him a thumbs up. There are three silver mirrors in her bag, along with extra batteries and flashlights. 

Mabel looks back at her brother, who’s fastening something to his belt. She laughs when she realizes what it is, but Dipper doesn’t look a bit amused. 

“A holy water gun?” she asks humorously. “We’ve got silver and some protection charms already, bro bro. I doubt we’re gonna need that.”

“You can never be too prepared,” he tells her. “A demon could sneak up on us, and you’ll be glad that I have it. Trust me.”

“You hear that, ghosts? My brother’s got a weapon, so you all better watch out!” she shouts, and her words echo back to her. “Dipper Pines is coming for ya!”

“Mabel!” he says, eyes wide. “Don’t provoke them!”

She grins. “They love me. That’s why we never get any evidence, they’re too lovestruck. Don’t be shy, ghosties.” She flicks her hair, which would’ve been more dramatic if her hair wasn’t so short, but still. It works. 

Dipper shakes his head. “I think it’s more of dumbstruck,” he jokes, but there’s no malice. There never is, really, because this is just how the two of them work. 

“By you, not me. That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs her hand. “Come on, let’s just get this night over with.”

Mabel grins and follows him, her flashlight bouncing off the walls. There are shadows where light meets dark, blurring the space between. She knows that there might be something hiding there, something more than both of them. Something part of this Great Unknown that Dipper wants to know, wants to learn. He’ll get lost just to find it, and Mabel will come along, because it’s always going to be the two of them against the tide, against everything. Even in the end, it will be the two of them standing at the beginning of it all. 

But for now, she follows him down the halls, calling out the ghosts to reach for them, and prays that they find something that will be enough to satisfy, but not too much to hurt. That’s how it goes. 

 

* * *

 

Mabel doesn’t understand why Dipper chooses to use a spirit box if he knows that they can understand the ghosts perfectly well without it. He’s had conversations with a lumberjack ghost before, so what makes now different? And it doesn’t help that she hates the sound of it, too. 

“If anyone’s here,” Dipper calls out over the sound of quickly changing static, “try to say something. Try saying my name—it’s Dipper. Or you can say Mabel’s name, whichever is easier for you.”

They listen to the static for a couple of seconds, but there’s nothing on the other side. Mabel looks at her brother, and sighs defeatedly at him. It’s not going to work, she wants to say, it never does. 

“ _ Mabel _ .” Static. “ _ Dipper. _ ”

“Did you hear that?” Dipper says, and he just looks at her, his eyes wide. She can’t move, either, and it feels weird and funny all over. “It said our names!”

“I know,” but it’s soft, unlike everything she’s feeling right now. Her heart is beating loudly, and she can hear it over the sound of the spirit box, beats against static. 

“Can you say your name? Who are you?” Dipper asks excitedly, and it feels nice, to see him so happy like that with the hope of evidence. That’s all Mabel really wants. She doesn’t care if they find evidence or not, because she  _ knows  _ ghosts are real and that’s enough for her—she just wants Dipper to get what he wants, what he  _ needs _ , and if it’s proof that he aims for, then so be it. 

The spirit box makes another sound, but Mabel doesn’t quite catch it this time. It only sounds like a garbled mess, a mix of consonants and vowels softer than the static itself. But Dipper’s eyes are still wide, and she can feel his pulse through the hand she holds. 

“Did you hear that? They said Steve!”

Mabel frowns slightly, and she sort of feels like she’s walking on a tightrope. “I didn’t hear it,” she says, and as much as she wants him to find the proof he craves, she can’t fake it. She can’t do that to Dipper. “It sounded like a mush. Like when Grunkles Stan tries to sing but it sounds all terrible and you can’t understand a thing.”

“Oh,” he says, but he’s still listening to the box, still trying to hear voices that aren’t there. “That’s—that’s okay. We can listen to it again later, when editing. I’ll make you hear it.”

And she smiles, sweet and soft, holding onto his words. “Okay.”

A little later, when they stop receiving words and start receiving more static, they pack up and move to the next room. 

The room they enter is an old ward, dirty and worn-out beds strewn all over place as if an indoor hurricane had hit. Papers and bottles are scattered on the ground, shards of glass cracking under each step. 

“They say this is one of the more active rooms,” Dipper says, “because this is where the worst cases were, the ones with less hope. One of the patients attacked a nurse, too. Stabbed her with a needle several times. It’s terrible.”

She tugs at his hand when he gets lost in his daze, and she knows his brain is probably scanning through every piece of information he’d gathered on the room, reliving every gruesome detail. 

“We can ask them to turn on a flashlight,” she suggests, but she doesn’t wait for him to answer. She sets her flashlight on one of the tables, leaving it still and unmoving. She backs away to where Dipper stands. “If there are any ghosts here, any ghouls or spirits, turn on the light!”

For a moment, there’s nothing. Mabel watches, waits, and listens. Dipper is still next to her, holding his breath. He’s waiting, too. 

Mabel takes a step forward. “Come on! Don’t be afraid! Turn it on!”

The flashlight turns on, and Dipper shouts. He grips her arm, tight and hard, almost like he’s holding on for dear life. It turns off again, and Mabel edges closer, feeling a bit braver. (She has to be, for the both of them.)

“Turn it on again!”

It does. 

Dipper jumps next to her, but this is nothing compared to what they’ve faced before. He’s stronger than this. 

“If you’re really there,” he says slowly, “turn the light off and then turn it back on.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little difficult? I mean, they’re made of energy.”

“Mabel.”

“Okay, okay.”

They watch the flashlight, two hearts beating against silence. It does exactly as he ordered, blinking on after a moment in the dark. 

Mabel wonders if this is the type of proof Dipper’s been looking for. 

She walks over to the flashlight and takes it, figuring that what they’ve gotten is enough. The camera she’s holding recorded the whole thing. 

“Thank you,” she says to whoever is out there, to whatever shadow that lingers around them. “We’ll be leaving now. Goodbye!”

When they leave the room, Mabel swears she feels something following them. 

 

* * *

 

“They say a kid used to hang around here and play with his ball.” Dipper squeezes the blue ball in his hand, trying to stop his fingers from shaking. “Now we’re going to test that out.”

He stands in the middle of the hall, Mabel capturing it all on camera. “Okay. To the kid, if you wanna play, feel free to throw the ball back at us.” 

Letting go of a breath, Dipper throws the ball down the hallway, listening to the echoes it leaves behind. It bounces once, twice, thrice, before coming to a full stop to meet silence. Then a sound echoes back at them, almost as if it’s bouncing again. 

Dipper looks at Mabel, and she looks confused, too. “Let’s—let’s go check it out.”

They walk slowly, trying to find where the ball went. There are dozens of open doors down the hall, and Mabel checks those on the right, while Dipper to the left. They try to scan for it, searching for the ball. 

“Uh, Dipper, you might wanna see this,” Mabel says, uncertain. And he does, he looks, and he finds the blue ball, sitting still on the ground. It’s an empty room, the one it’s in, with graffiti on the walls. He looks up and finds—

_ MASON _ .

There it is, his name, his  _ real _ name, written on the wall, all capital, glaring at him. Stained ink red, the wall is pale in comparison, his name sticking out more than anything else. It looks like blood. 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, nope, no thanks, no thank you, no, no—” He’s choking on air, he can’t breathe. “How did they—? How? What the actual  _ heck _ —”

“Dipper,” Mabel says, softly and comforting, trying to pull him back towards the ground, towards reality, “Dipper, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Mabel,” he croaks out. “They know my name. My actual name. What the heck?”

She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. She can feel his heart against hers, and she wants it to slow down, his brain to calm down, to soften around the edges. 

“Dipper, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,” she murmurs in his ear. “They can’t hurt us, remember? We’re protected. We’re safe.”

And slowly, like leaves falling during autumn, his heart slows down and his breathing evens. 

“Okay,” he mumbles, “okay.”

She smiles, and squeezes his hand one more time. “We’re safe and sound, bro bro.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Safe. Let’s keep it that way.”

Mabel grins. “Yeah.”

It might’ve been a coincidence, so they do it again; Dipper throws the ball with his heart in his throat, but this time it lands straight in the middle of the hallway, right across the door with Dipper’s name. It might mean nothing, it might mean something, he knows that, but still. 

The ball landed on his name. It might’ve been a coincidence, but something knows they’re here. Something who knows  _ them _ . 

 

* * *

 

They make it to the room where they’ll be staying in for the night. It’s on the top floor, near a balcony that three different suicides had taken place in. This has to be the creepiest room, Mabel decides, as she places her sleeping bag on the ground. 

“This place is something else,” she says, and it’s dark all around them. She knows her brother isn’t asleep yet—even without the threat of ghosts around them, he has a hard time sleeping, so it wouldn’t really surprise her. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, and he’s shifting to face her, lying on his left. “It’s definitely got its fair share of the paranormal.”

“It might even be Gravity Falls weird,” she says honestly. “Though I don’t think anything can top everything we’ve seen there.”

“Definitely,” he tells her. “I think this place is running a different race. You put the charms up before we put up our stuff, right?”

“‘Course,” she says. She’d been collecting ancient runes and artifacts for protection ever since Grunkle Ford had introduced her to them, and she’s always been careful around them. “Wouldn’t want you to get less sleep than normal,” she jokes.

It earns a smile from Dipper. He yawns. “I think I’ll actually get some rest this time.”

“Hopefully,” Mabel quips, “though highly unlikely, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says lightly, and his eyes are closed now. 

Mabel stares at the darkness, waiting for it to blink back at her. It doesn’t move, there’s no shadow that lingers behind it. Maybe that’s all there is, she thinks, as she closes her eyes. 

 

* * *

 

_ She’s running. The doors of the hospital are blurry as she runs from hall to hall. There’s something behind her, something chasing her. She can’t seem to find her brother, can’t find Dipper anywhere. And it’s terrifying, because she doesn’t know what’s happening, why she’s running, or where her brother is.  _

_ After Weirdmageddon, she’d promised to never leave him again. She’d planned on keeping that promise.  _

_ “Dipper!” she calls out, her breathing heavy. “Dipper, where are you?” _

_ Something feels wrong. Something’s not right, and if anything’s happened to Dipper, she would never forgive herself for it. It feels like the halls are rotating, shifting, making her lean. It’s endless, and it seems like she’s passing the same place twice, thrice.  _

_ Something shifts, and Mabel’s pulled to the ground. There’s light at the end of the hall, she just needs to reach it. A laugh echoes in the other direction, and Mabel freezes. She knows that laugh, had heard it in her nightmares too many times to not recognize it. She gets up and runs, makes her feet take her towards the light.  _

_ She never reaches it.  _

_ “Why, Shooting Star, it seems as if you’ve forgotten how to wake up,” the voice says, sounding almost soft, almost quiet, almost real. “Or perhaps you simply don’t want to.” _

 

* * *

 

Mabel jolts awake and reaches for Dipper, scrambling to reach his arm and take hold. He wakes up immediately, grumbling. His eyes open to meet her frantic state, and he realizes what’s wrong. 

He wraps his arms around her, holding her close. “It was just a dream,” he says softly, and Mabel tries not to compare it to the voice in her dream, because Dipper’s reminds her of home, of light, of happiness. “We’re safe.”

And it’s funny to find them with switched roles from earlier, but Mabel doesn’t let those thoughts linger for long. She breathes slowly, in and out. Counts, counts her breaths, the sheep, her heartbeat. She tries to forget, but it keeps coming back.  _ He _ keeps coming back. 

“I couldn’t find you,” she mumbles into his shirt, sniffling. “He was  _ here _ , Dipper. He was here.”

The thing is, Mabel has learned after all of this, is that no matter how many protection spells she places or how many silver mirrors she carries, the ghosts that will always be able to reach her are her own. That’s the scariest part.

“No, he’s not, Mabel,” Dipper says, hushed and soft. “He’s gone, don’t worry.”

And it reassures her, but her heart is still racing. She’s awake now, she’s not in the dream, but something about what he had said keeps her on edge. What did he mean?

“Are you feeling better?” he asks after a moment, still keeping his voice low. Mabel nods, but he keeps an arm around her—just in case. 

“Thanks, Dipper,” she says with a grateful smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Any time,” he says. “Thank you, too, for earlier. Thanks for having my back.”

This is the way things work between them. They help each other fight their own ghosts, their own inner demons. When Mabel can’t fight her own battles, Dipper’s there to lend a hand, to help her get back on their feet. She does the same, and it always works. They get better.

“Mabel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” She removes her head from where it was leaning on his shoulder and looks at him. “Hit me.”

He exhales. “How do you do it?”

She raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. “Do what?”

He gestures all around them, his arms moving towards everything. “All of this. It doesn’t scare you as much as me. I mean, I know we’ve been through worse, we’ve been through literal hell, but you’re always a lot calmer than I am. How?”

She shrugs, thinking for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t believe,” she says after a deep breath. “I do. Of course I do. I’ve seen some crazy stuff—I’ve seen ghosts and gnomes and the apocalypse. It’s just that—” Mabel pauses, putting her fingers together. “There’s a line between reality and imagination and I’ve walked on it too many times before to know that it’s dangerous. You can’t stay in a bubble forever and sometimes things like these just aren’t there. Sometimes there are ghosts, and sometimes there aren’t. The world is full of the paranormal, Dipper, but they’re not everywhere. They’re not always going to be there.” 

Mabel mulls it over a little bit more, frowning. “We’ve been doing this for about a year now, Dipper, which means I’ve seen you drag yourself through the mud to try and reach the proof we both know deep down isn’t there. We both want to find that Great Unknown, but there should be a time when we know enough’s enough. This is fun, really, it is, and I love doing this with you more than anything, but I also care about you. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, but we gotta know to stop once we’ve reached the edge.”

“I just,” Dipper says, “I want people to see what we’ve seen. I want to prove that there’s more to this than we know, that I’m not going crazy for knowing all of this is real. And what if—what if you’re not with me for that? You’re the only person I trust to keep me grounded, to bring me back home. What if you’re not with me when it happens?”

Mabel takes his hand. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave, didn’t I? I’m going to keep that promise.”

When they leave the hospital in the morning, the voices and shadows that followed them are long gone. It’s just the two of them alone, the two of them against the world. The sun shines even brighter than before.

And if there were truly any ghosts in the hospital, well, it’ll just have to remain unsolved.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu at superishs.tumblr.com!!


End file.
